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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094870">Taming The Beast</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_is_fanart_even/pseuds/What_is_fanart_even'>What_is_fanart_even</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Original Character(s), Prison, Romance, Skyrim Quest: The Forsworn Conspiracy, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, The Forsworn (Elder Scrolls)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:40:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29094870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/What_is_fanart_even/pseuds/What_is_fanart_even</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She should have known nothing good would come of all this. This is just what happens when you scheme with the guy who suspiciously slipped you a note during a murder, not minutes after you enter the gates. In the most suspicious hold in Skyrim. In the middle of the night.</p><p>Nim looked around at the few prisoners in the large main room as they stared at her. The one by the fire seemed unimpressed, and she’s pretty sure the orc over on the side actually snickered. </p><p>Wonderful</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Borkul the Beast/Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dirty Fighting Nordic Bastards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She should have known nothing good would come of all this. This is just what happens when you scheme with the guy who suspiciously slipped you a note during a murder, not minutes after you enter the gates. In the most suspicious hold in Skyrim. In the middle of the night.</p><p> </p><p>'<em>Well. he got what was coming to him I suppose’ </em> Nim thought. She immediately felt a little guilty for the thought, they murdered him rather brutally. <em> ‘I hope his daughter will be alright.’ </em> she thought idly, as she changed into the clothing the orc woman had practically thrown at her. </p><p>Nim had woken up in Cidhna mine, with no idea how long she had been unconscious, and a rather large bump forming on the back of her skull. The guards who killed Eltrys didn’t appreciate her fighting back, and one of them knocked her out with the hilt of his sword before she could do any real damage. ‘Fighting dirty, the nordic bastards.’</p><p> </p><p>She woke up on the ground in her cell, to the solid kick of a steel boot into her unarmoured side. It would seem they have stolen her armour, likely hidden in some chest up in the keep. Her only luck in this whole situation was that her guards were two women, who seemed wholly uninterested in leering at her like some guards had in the past. <em> ‘I’ve really fucking done it this time, arrested in fucking Markarth.’’  </em>Before she could finish the thought, the orc guard banged her weapon on the steel bars behind her.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s move, elf. You have silver to mine. There will be no sleeping off your sentence in Cidhna.” </p><p> </p><p>Nim finished tying the strings on the crude pants she was given, muttering under her breath. “Impatient bitch.”</p><p>The large woman must have heard her, or at least didn’t appreciate the mumbling because she grabbed Nim by the hair before she could get in another word and slapped her across the face with the other hand. “You’d best learn some fucking respect, or next week I may just forget to bring you your portion of food, tree-fucker.”</p><p> </p><p>It took all of Nims resolve not to spit in the woman’s face then and there. Instead, she glared at the taller woman holding her up, silent and furious. She was at a bit of a disadvantage height-wise, the guard had at least a foot on her and the grip on her disheveled hair had her up on her toes. Being let go so suddenly nearly sent her to her knees and both the orc and the other guard laughed. </p><p>“So puny, I’ll be surprised if you even make it to next week.” the orc sneered. Nim held her tongue; now was not the time to let her anger get the best of her. The two women strongarmed her out of the cell and nearly threw her down the stairs. From the top, the Orc woman spoke up one last time. “Grab a pickaxe and earn your food, elf. From what I’ve heard, your sentence is a damn long one.” </p><p>Nim looked around at the few prisoners in the large main room as they stared at her. The one by the fire seemed unimpressed, and she’s pretty sure the orc over on the side actually snickered. </p><p> </p><p>Wonderful.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. New blood to New Lifer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Do you know how to mine silver new blood?”</p>
<p>His tone sounded a little condescending, and she huffed under the weight of both men’s eyes. “I can swing an axe, no need to worry about me.” It was a little uncomfortable to turn her back on two strange men, but she hardly had a choice as she turned to the silver vein in the wall. ‘How hard can it be, it’s just hitting some rocks.’</p>
<p>Harder than she thought, as it turned out.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For a prison in such a large hold, there didn’t seem to be many people here. As Nim descended the wooden stairs she scanned the room, and there were only 2 people around. She could hear pickaxes from the tunnels in each wall, but it didn’t seem like that many more. The first of them being the man by the fire. It was an older Breton man from what she could see. He looked malnourished, something she imagined was a trait gained from his stay here and seemed to be quite uninterested in her as she took note of him. </p>
<p>The second was possibly the biggest orc she had ever seen, and he was glaring directly at her. </p>
<p>She held eye contact and raised her chin, she wasn’t about to let his size intimidate her. That seemed to amuse him, as he snorted lightly at her bravado. She took into account the paint on his face and the large horns that seemed to adorn skin like a dragon. His arms were huge, probably larger than her head, and crossed in a threatening stance. She couldn’t really take in the rest of him without breaking the intense eye contact, so instead, she turned away and headed towards the pickaxes leaning underneath the wooden platform. <em> ‘That is one mean looking bastard.’ </em>As she picked one up, the Breton man spoke up from the fire. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s where we put the broken ones for the guards to get fixed, you’ll have to get one from the tunnels.”</p>
<p>She turned around, surprised that he had spoken to her. She assumed he was busy in his own little world, or whatever he was doing staring into that fire. “Oh. Thanks,” she responded, a little awkwardly. She made her way over to the fire. If she’s gonna be stuck in this place she may as well try and get the lay of the land from someone whos been here a while. He looked up at her from across the fire, and she could see that he wasn’t quite as old as she assumed from his hair. It was likely the years spent in here that aged his face. Never one to be shy, she introduced herself. </p>
<p>“Nimenel, but call me Nim”, She took a quick look to make sure the guards were gone, before sitting diagonally from him by the fire. “And you are?” He seemed surprised at her friendliness, hopefully it wasn’t unwelcome. It would seem not as he introduced himself as well.</p>
<p>“Uraccen. What are you in for, new blood?" </p>
<p>She snorted at the title. She thought about whether or not she should say it, but after everything she learned while investigating for Eltrys she figured saying ‘I was investigating the forsworn conspiracy around Markarth’ seemed like a bad idea. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Nothing, for once I’m innocent. The one friend I make in Markarth and he makes me take the fall for his mess.” She wasn’t lying per se, no point making up something elaborate she would have to keep running for the whole time she was here. Her story seemed to amuse him either way.</p>
<p>“Ain’t that always the way, gotta love Skyrim. I was innocent too, for the first one. The other murders were all me, though.” The way he said it made her think he was trying to intimidate her, but she just laughed. </p>
<p>“I mean, I can’t say I haven’t done a few of those myself, so I suppose I’m not all innocent. Just this time around.” She snickered. No point pretending she was some Aedra among murderers and thieves. He laughed as well, clearly amused by her story. She didn’t trust him, but that was pretty normal for prison. In fact, it was the norm for Skyrim in general. But she didn’t see any reason to be wary of a conversation, and this is the first time she hasn’t immediately known how she was gonna escape so she’s gonna want to get more info.  “Can I ask who you killed to get put in here? Or was it an unimportant one?”</p>
<p>“They’re all unimportant.” He winked playfully, and she grinned back. “This time, however, A Nord nobleman I served was stabbed in the night. Wasn't me, but I knew I'd be blamed. So I ran. Joined the Forsworn. Started killing. Got caught. Now I'm here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Better here than getting executed I suppose.” She said, and he shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder. Being in the Forsworn is a great gig, but this place can feel like death most days.” He responded. She had learned her share about the forsworn running those errands the last few days, though she couldn’t see the appeal of joining.</p>
<p>“Why'd you join the Forsworn?” </p>
<p>"Because life was better under the old ways. No Nords and their laws. One day, the Forsworn will paint the walls of Markarth in their blood." He sneered. He seemed passionate about the cause, and she couldn’t exactly disagree with his opinion on Nords on most days. Especially today. She watched as he dragged himself to his feet. “Come on new blood, let’s go find you an axe.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She followed him as he walked past the massive orc, and she stared straight ahead. She had a feeling he was a mean one, and without her weapons, she probably couldn’t take him. Probably.</p>
<p>Uraccen led her down one of the tunnels, and she kept her guard up. He didn’t seem to want to do her any harm, but he was leading her down a mysterious tunnel so she stayed ready. Him she could take, he was thin and weary. “Where are the guards?” She asked. She hadn’t seen a single one since they threw her in. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>"They come in here once a week to clean out the bodies, grab any ore we've mined, and beat down the troublemakers. That's the only time when we get food, too. And if there's not enough ore mined up, we don't get any."</p>
<p>Great. That sounds promising, coming from the guy leading her around a strange place. They seemed to reach a larger cleared out area of the tunnel, where two more men were mining, a Nord and another Breton. Uraccen grabbed one of the axes out of the corner and handed it to her handle first. The two men didn’t acknowledge her, and in turn, she accepted the axe and didn’t acknowledge them back. “Come on, we don’t want too many people mining in one place or it’ll collapse.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Has that happened before?”</p>
<p>“Yes, killed 2 men and nearly took me out as well. “</p>
<p> </p>
<p>More amazing news. Especially to a woman who has never mined in her life and wasn’t entirely sure how other than ‘hit wall with axe repeatedly.’ </p>
<p>As they made their way back towards the main room Uraccen spoke again. “That was Grisvar and Ovdan. Ovdan’s Forsworn, Grisvar is just an unlucky bastard. Further down there was Braig, but he’s a bitter old man so don’t bother speaking to him ‘less you have to.”</p>
<p>They crossed the main room once more and she could feel the Orcs’ eyes on her the whole time. The door behind him must be where Madanach is, it makes sense that the king of rags would have a bodyguard. Uraccen took her to another room with another Breton man. This one glanced at her as they walked in, but went back to her work just like the others. “This is Duach, another one of us Forsworn. And this is where I usually do my work.”</p>
<p>“So where do you want me to go?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He gestured to the wall opposite of them. “You can mine in here as well, the walls are better enforced here so you’ll be alright. Probably.”</p>
<p>He looked her up and down, and she stood uncomfortably. The pickaxe was an unfamiliar weight in her hand, and he could tell. “Do you know how to mine silver new blood?”</p>
<p>His tone sounded a little condescending, and she huffed under the weight of both men’s eyes. “I can swing an axe, no need to worry about me.” It was a little uncomfortable to turn her back on two strange men, but she hardly had a choice as she turned to the silver vein in the wall. ‘How hard can it be, it’s just hitting some rocks.’</p>
<p>Harder than she thought, as it turned out. </p>
<p>She pulled the axe above her head in both hands as she watched the other men do, and swung forward like she was wielding a war hammer. The axe hit the wall of ore with a large clang, and the force of it reverberated through her arms painfully. The recoil made her stumble a bit, and she was even more embarrassed when both men behind her laughed at the struggle. She spun around and glared as they took great amusement in her obvious lack of expertise.  It was an embarrassing 30 seconds before Uraccen pulled himself together enough to speak once more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come on new blood, that’s how you break axes not stone!” He laughed, setting off the other man once more. </p>
<p>“Forgive me if I’m more accustomed to cutting flesh than ore!” She said, trying not to let their teasing get to her. For however long the two of them had been stuck here, it would seem their humour remained intact. Once Uraccen pulled himself together once more, he stepped forward and took the axe from her hand.</p>
<p>“Come look new blood. You have to aim for the cracks and divots in the rock first. Hold the axe with your hands further apart and make sure your feet are steady. Swing from beside your head, not above it.” She watched as he aimed the tip of the axe directly into a crack in the rock, chipping it and extending the crack slightly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the next few hours, she followed his advice, and after she got the hang of it he turned to the wall and began mining himself. She spent most of the time planning and trying not to get flying pieces of rock in her eyes. She figured her best way out was through the elusive ‘king of rags’, but she had no clue how to get to him or if he would help her at all. They didn’t speak as they mined, a good thing since she was feeling embarrassingly out of breath. <em> ‘I’ll sooner reach oblivion than spend years doing this. I need to find Madanach.’ </em> </p>
<p>After a while, she heard them drop their axes behind her, and she turned to see what was happening. This time it was Duach who spoke first.</p>
<p>“Come new blood. It’s time we eat.” As the three walked back to the main room, she couldn’t help but wonder how they kept track of time in here. They made their way to some barrels underneath the platform, and Duach fished out some wrapped parcels. He threw one at Nim, and another to Uraccen. He took his own back the way they came, and Uraccen made his way back to the fire. <em> ‘I guess he likes to eat alone? Unless he thinks I’m gonna steal his food or something. Weird.’ </em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>“If you’re not gonna eat it then put it back, new blood, there’s not much to go around. Don’t mind Duach, he likes to take skooma with his food.”</p>
<p>Uraccen startled her out of her thoughts, and she quickly sat by the fire and unwrapped her parcel. It was a tiny piece of dried out, unrecognizable piece of meat and a single carrot. ‘Disgusting. There is no way I am spending any more time than I have to here.’ She turned to Uraccen. “Where's Madanach?” she said lowly. Hopefully, he wouldn’t find an issue in her questioning. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, I figured your little tale earlier was missing some pieces, new lifer. Tough luck, friend. Those guards sold you out but good.” He didn’t seem offended that she had lied to him earlier, something she supposed she should be grateful for. “No one talks to Madanach, I'm afraid. Not without getting past Borkul the Beast. And you don't want to talk to Borkul the Beast." They had already been speaking in nearly a whisper, but towards the end, his voice got even lower.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Borkul the Beast?”</p>
<p>"Madanach's guard. Big, even for an Orc. Heard he ripped a man's arm off and beat him to death with it. He's old-fashioned like that."</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em> ‘The creepy orc with the face paint. Sounds like a blast.’ </em>She thought, feeling rather annoyed at the large and intimidating block in her path to escape from this shithole. “He’s the orc over there, with the face paint right?”</p>
<p>“That’s him.” Uraccen suddenly looked very serious. “Don’t bother, new-blood. My advice? Serve your time at the pickaxe and get out. You don't want to end up getting a shiv in the guts over a bottle of Skooma. Or getting your head torn off at the hands of that brute.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> ‘Well if that’s not a challenge, I don’t know what is. It’s not like I have any other options anyway.’ </em>
</p>
<p>She pushed herself to her feet and dropped her parcel of food in front of the older man. “Watch my food, I believe it’s time I make my introduction.”</p>
<p>“Your funeral.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to my beta readers!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. So soft. Tender.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>’m telling you right now that if your plan is to stab Borkul, it won’t work. Someone tried it once, and he killed them with the thing still sticking out of his shoulder. He still has the scar if you don’t believe me.”</p><p>“I’m not gonna stab him-”</p><p>“I’m not sure you could reach anyways, so that’s good.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Borkul had to admit, she was the nicest sight any of the sore eyes in this place had seen in a long while. All soft edges and wild hair, looking so out of place in a shithole like this. She was the new lifer, the elf that the guards put away when she sniffed around where she shouldn’t have. He and Madanach had discussed it earlier in the day, but somehow she wasn’t what he expected. Not that it really mattered. He watched as Urzoga nearly pushed her down the stairs, chuckling a little at how she stumbled and tried to get her bearings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She glanced around the room, looking like a trapped animal expecting some predator to jump out of the shadows, and then her eyes landed on his. His face remained as it usually did, impassive but intimidating as was his job. Surprisingly, she matched him with an equal glare of her own. She turned up her chin defiantly and he couldn’t help but snort at such an angry expression on such a small person. It seemed she didn’t like that, as she spun on her heel and headed towards the broken axes underneath the platform.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched with minor interest as Uraccen made more conversation with her than he ever had before with a newbie. Perhaps he recognized how out of place the young elf seemed, or perhaps he was just interested in terrorizing the new blood. It wasn’t part of Borkul’s job description to care, and he watched uncaringly as she was led past him into the tunnels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took their absence to go and inform Madanach she had arrived and was off to work with Uraccen. Madanach barely looked up from his papers as he flippantly replied with, “Yes, good, whatever. Send her when she comes looking for me, and don’t rough her up too much. She could be useful.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So for now he remained at his post. On days when there wasn’t a new recruit and an escape plan just in sight, he would mine like the others. But today his only job would be to guard the door and speak to the new blood when she found the confidence to do more than glare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She found that confidence faster than he expected. She was only mining for a few hours before she came back with the two men to grab some food. Before she even ate anything, she and Uraccen began speaking in low whispers. She wasn’t exactly subtle as she glanced at him and then turned back to Uraccen and they continued whispering. He watched as she handed her food to the Breton and stood up, striding over to his post with determination in her eyes. She lost a little steam as she realized that she would be about eye level with the lower half of his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before she could recover from that realization, he spoke up. “The new meat. So soft. Tender.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She practically bristled at that. She was easy to rile up it seems. “What was it like killing your first one, huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She huffed as she spoke. “I didn’t kill anyone, not this time. I was set up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed, and that seemed to piss her off a little more. “So I heard. The guards had fun with you.” He didn’t let her continue with whatever petulant response he was sure she had. </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“What do you want, little killer?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to see Madanach.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Uraccen was right about him being big, even for an Orc. As she strode up to him she only realized that when it was a bit too late. She had stepped close only to realize she was basically eye level with his sternum, and now she had to either step back or lookup. Neither idea sounded great for her great plan of looking intimidating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was condescending as he spoke, and she felt herself getting more and more pissed off as he spoke. He called her ‘soft and tender’ and while it made the tips of her pointed ears a little hot, it also felt rather insulting considering the circumstances. When he was done insulting her, she finally stated why she was here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to see Madanach.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His smile was cocky as he responded. "You want to talk to the King in Rags? Fine. But first, you got to pay the toll.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course he has a fucking toll. Assholes always find a way to make her plans harder than they need to be.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How about you get me a shiv? Not that I need one, but it's nice to have in case I need to do some "shaving." He laughed at his own joke, and she very pointedly ignored what a nice laugh he has. Bastard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, I’ll go find you a shiv.” In her head she continued on; </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘and maybe you can shove it up your ass, dickhole.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She spun on her heel and marched back to the firepit where Uraccen was still seated. He silently threw her the food and watched as she tore into it. She finished it with the vigour of a starved wolf, before looking back at him. “I need a shiv. Where do I get one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Uraccen laughed. “I’m telling you right now that if your plan is to stab Borkul, it won’t work. Someone tried it once, and he killed them with the thing still sticking out of his shoulder. He still has the scar if you don’t believe me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna stab him-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure you could reach anyways, so that’s good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She gasped and threw her crumpled parcel wrap at him, making him chuckle. “He asked me to get him one. Then he’ll let me talk to Madanach.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He seemed to think for a while before looking up again. “Grisvar has a spare if you could get him to part with it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled brightly and stood up. “Thank you Uraccen, I will be right back.” As she walked away, Uraccen almost looked sad. In fact, over their last few conversations, he had given her this odd look every time he thought she wasn’t looking. To be honest, it was way too sad of a look for what was basically a stranger. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘That's what happens after you spend years in a place like this I guess,’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought.</span>
  <em>
    <span> ‘All the more reason to get out of this shithole sooner.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. A shitty little knife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Alright, Here's your shiv.”</p>
<p>The orc grinned widely. She had a brand new bruise sporting her cheek, likely the result of the fight he overheard on the north end of the mine. "All right, head on in. But don't try anything in there.”<br/>He leaned a little closer to really tower over her.  “Madanach is smarter than you think."</p>
<p>She held her ground, glaring up at his smug face. “I’m not worried. Unlock the door.”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Getting the shiv was far more work than it really needed to be, for such a shitty little knife. What could a man like Borkul possibly want with a twiggy little blade like this? She had gone straight to Grisvar, her hopes high until they were suddenly dashed as the man demanded that she get him a bottle of skooma in exchange. It could have gone worse, she supposed. He could have just denied her. What was fortunate was that she knew exactly who would have some skooma, and he didn’t seem to particularly dislike her or anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nim had a few run-ins with skooma and what it did to people in the past, and the experiences had been more than enough to scare her away from trying it. Wujeeta in Riften had been absolutely miserable, getting the Argonian woman off skooma was one of the few deeds Nim could look back on proudly. And then there had been that random Khajiit that had tried to sell to her on her way out of Falkreath that one time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Man, that guy was a dick.</span>
  </em>
  <span> But back to the subject at hand. Hopefully, Duach could be persuaded to share his stash with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The brawl was unplanned, though the win had felt good. In the past, brawling had gotten her in trouble. Slow, clumsy Nords can easily be hustled by someone of her stature, and they generally got rather offended when she would beat them. Duatch took the loss well all things considered, and handed over the bottle of Skooma with a laugh as he cracked his jaw. No hard feelings there for once, it takes a strong man to accept defeat with a smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Alright,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nim thought,</span>
  <em>
    <span> I have the stupid shiv. I swear if this thing ends up in my back…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She marched right back up to Borkul, taking note that Uraccen had moved from his spot by the fire to sit on the stairs and watch their conversation play out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, Here's your shiv.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The orc grinned widely. She had a brand new bruise sporting her cheek, likely the result of the fight he overheard on the north end of the mine. "All right, head on in. But don't try anything in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned a little closer to really tower over her.  “Madanach is smarter than you think."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She held her ground, glaring up at his smug face. “I’m not worried. Unlock the door.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite being locked up for so many years, Madanach was a busy man. After all this time he had Markarth practically in his pocket, and the final step in his grand plan was escape. He had heard there was someone snooping around where she shouldn't, and he was rather impressed. She practically found him out, before she got herself landed in here. Good timing for her, since their escape was planned for about an hour from now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard the door creak open finally, and readied himself for what he hoped would be a successful negotiation. Turning in his chair, he took in the sight of his new attempted spy. She was a small wood elf with wild hair and a rather angry expression on her face. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, well. Look at you. The Nords have turned you into an animal. A wild beast caged up and left to go mad. So, my fellow beast, what do you want? Answers about the Forsworn? Revenge for trying to have you killed?"</span>
  <span></span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She didn't seem impressed by his dramatic speech, instead choosing to lean on the wall beside the entrance and give him quite the death glare. “You have a lot to answer for, old man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Do I? And what about you? What right did you have to meddle in my affairs? Kill my people? Was it worth it? Your truth? You're one of us now, you see? A slave. The boot of the Nord stepping on your throat. Maybe if you understood that, I could help you."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>To his surprise, she laughed. “What do you really need to explain? Your motives are pretty clear, you hate Nords. I get it, anyone who's not a Nord gets it. But don’t you think this is a little far? I’ve heard of the crazy shit you people do, and it's more than Nords getting caught in your crossfire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was a worthy opponent in wit, he had to give her that. He would enjoy recruiting her. “Perhaps so, but death being rained upon the Nords has been worth it. Our plight is not a faceless hate, each of us have faced injustice at the hands of nords and we all came together to fight back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She didn’t respond, and still seemed non-convinced. Perhaps he could change that. "There's a man named Braig inside these mines. Besides me, he's been here the longest. Tell him I sent you. Ask him why he's here. I want you to know how widespread the injustice of Markarth is."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She pushed off the wall with a sigh. “Look, I just want my freedom the same as you. I may be in here for meddling in your affairs but I really have no quarrel with you or your men. I came to you through your dick of a bodyguard to discuss how we can get out of here. I know you have connections and a plan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed. “All in due time. Go speak to Braig.” and with that, he turned back to his work. He listened as she left in a huff, but it didn't matter. Soon none of this would matter really. They were so close to seeing the light of day once more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Madanach was an interesting man to speak to, and if she weren’t so determined to get the hell out of here, she </span>
  <em>
    <span>might </span>
  </em>
  <span>have enjoyed conversing with him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps later on, if he doesn’t sic his stupid bodyguard on me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought as she brushed past the Orc in question. She kept her head held high as she went to sit with Uraccen on the steps. Nim noted Uraccen's relieved expression with some surprise. She took his look to mean that people had failed to leave Madanach's chambers in the past.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat beside him on the wooden steps and tore off a piece of the useless string on her tunic to tie up her hair as she spoke. “He told me to go speak to Braig, ask him why he’s in here. Any way you could hint me on how that's going to go?” She made eye contact with the older man and his mouth had set into a hard line. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not my story to tell. But trust me, he has every reason to be one of us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She nodded and looked forward, blowing into her hands. It was so cold underground. Uraccen nudged her side. “Go on Nim, the sooner you speak to him the sooner you get back in there to harass the old man some more.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed and nudged him back with her shoulder. “I did not harass him! I actually enjoyed talking to him, he definitely has the qualities of a leader. He’s convincing and has that tone of manipulation that most good leaders have. And he didn't look that much older than you, old man.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That made him laugh as she stood up and began making her way to the tunnel. Time to learn Braig’s story.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Little Aethra</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Well? Why has the King In Rags sent you?” He sounded impatient and brash, uncaring of her answer. </p><p>“Madanach asked me to hear your story,” she said plainly. She nearly missed the expression that crossed his face, of pure pain and white-hot anger before it settled back to his previous indifference.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nim had heard some sad stories living in Skyrim. When she learned she was the Dragonborn, they only continued as she ran all around Skyrim taking down dragons and trying to save people.  She honestly didn't think Braig’s tale would make the list, or at least not be one of the worse stories as she trudged deep into the tunnel to speak with him. She figured it would be another run of the mill ‘the Nords treated me badly, so I joined the forsworn for revenge’ tale that the rest of these men had told her since she got here. She’d heard that story from every Mer and non-Nord she ever met living in Skyrim, the only real difference with the Forsworn is the fact that they decided to get organized and murder people about it. What about Braig’s story could be so bad that Madanach needed Nim to hear it before he revealed anything more to her? What more was there really to understand? She supposed it didn't matter. She would speak with Braig and get it over with so they could all move on with planning an escape.</p><p>Madanach must have a plan. There’s no way he is building up such a strong hold on Markarth for nothing. He must have <em> something </em>in store, and if he didn’t then she would work with him until they did. For all the prisons and binds she has escaped in the past, she didn’t think she would be able to get out of this one singlehanded. Hopefully, they would accept her help, and not stab her in the back.  </p><p> </p><p>She found Braig sitting against the wall at the end of the tunnel, eating his parcel of food. He was a large man, it was one of the first things she noticed. He had a large tattoo upon the middle of his face, she wondered if he got it before or after he was locked up. Like many of the others in the prison, he looked malnourished on top of the wiry muscles built up from years of swinging a heavy pickaxe. She wondered how large, how intimidating he would be, if he were healthy. </p><p> </p><p>“Braig. Madanach sent me. I need to speak with you.”</p><p> </p><p>He stared up at her with a pensive expression before gesturing to the empty space in front of him. Did he know what she was going to ask him? Did he expect this type of order from his boss? Normally she would prefer to remain standing, but in this case it felt a little awkward to be looking down on him as he sat tiredly against the wall. Nim carefully sat on her knees on the cold floor before him.</p><p> </p><p>“Well? Why has the King In Rags sent you?” He sounded impatient and brash, uncaring of her answer. </p><p> </p><p>“Madanach asked me to hear your story,” she said plainly. She nearly missed the expression that crossed his face, of pure pain and white-hot anger before it settled back to his previous indifference. It was an expression she had seen before, and certainly would be her first warning as to how this conversation was going to go. She couldn't help but notice he looked just a little more exhausted than when she first entered the room. </p><p> </p><p>Instead of answering her question, he turned the conversation on her.  "My <em> story </em>, huh? Everyone in Cidhna Mine has a tale. Let's hear yours first.” His gaze bored into hers, almost challenging, daring her to speak. “When was the first time you felt chains around your wrists?"</p><p> </p><p>Why ask her that. Why does it matter? Memories flashed through her head, barely a teenager dragged into a cell by the chains around her wrist. She had only stolen a wedge of cheese, but the owner had thrown such a fuss, and the guards were unsympathetic. She had spent one freezing cold night there before they threw her back out on the road, told her to go home. What a foreign concept that was. She scoffed. <em> Home. </em> It still is. She tore herself from the memory and answered him before he could get suspicious of her silence. None of her past mattered now. “Young.” She responded. “I've always been known to get into trouble.” And that was the Divine’s honest truth, and the reason she had been able to break out of prisons easily in the past. </p><p> </p><p>His anger built as he continued on, face morphed into a deep frown. She wondered if he’d had the chance to grow laugh lines on his aging face before he was imprisoned. "Then you know the hard looks as judgment gets set upon you. The sneers of people who never had to face a sentence." She had to break the intense eye contact he had with her. Sure she understood those looks, but she hasn't let them bother her since she was a teenager. There had been a point in her childhood when she realized that she couldn’t let them bother her anymore, or she would never be happy. Especially not in Skyrim. </p><p>She didn’t respond, and so he turned the questioning on her with a brash tone.. “Do you have any family? Anyone waiting for you on the outside?" She could feel that he was deflecting, but she didn’t know why. </p><p> </p><p>She hadn’t had any blood family in many years, there was no point in denying that. But it felt wrong to share such information with him. Who was he to question her life, to question her family? It felt pointed in a way that it couldn’t have been. She had just met him, he couldn’t possibly know that her family was taken, he couldn’t know that anyone she was related to was gone forever. He couldn’t know and yet his question felt like a personal attack, one she couldn’t help but be angry about. She bit back a retort, realizing she had no right to be questioning him either. It made sense that he might turn her questions back on her. She answered quickly and without detail, lest she share more than she should. “I have friends,” she said defiantly, looking back at his gaunt face. “Only family I need.”</p><p> </p><p>He stayed silent for a long while, and for a horrifying moment she was worried she had said something to offend him or he had decided he wouldn’t share his story with her after all. Then she watched as he scraped a hand over his balding head and took a deep breath. He was steeling himself for something important, and Nim sat up straighter in response. </p><p> </p><p>"I had a daughter, once.” His voice was soft, quiet; his face dark with a bitter scowl that seemed etched into his face by the chisel of time and pain.  “She'd be 23 this year. Married to some hot-headed silver worker, or maybe on her own learning the herb trade. The Nords didn't care who was and who wasn't involved in the Forsworn Uprising. I had spoken to Madanach <em> once </em> , that was enough.” He paused briefly, and she could have sworn the breath he took sounded shaken. “But my little Aethra didn't want to see her papa leave her. She pleaded to the Jarl to take her instead. And after they made me watch as her head rolled off the block, they threw <em> me </em>in here anyway, to dig up their silver!"</p><p> </p><p>By the end of his story, his voice was rough with emotion and he was looking seconds from falling apart. The break in his voice felt wrong coming from such a gruff man, so out of place in a way he didn’t deserve. It felt wrong to see him this way, uncomfortable to be in the presence of a complete stranger’s vulnerability.</p><p>Nimnel didn’t consider herself a very emotional woman, but her eyes watered as she let his words sink in. She wondered how young his daughter was when it happened. She was so brave to take her father’s place, and so betrayed even after death.</p><p>They sat in silence for a while, Braig distraught with emotion and anger and Nim feeling quite the same. Her voice trembled as she finally broke the silence, and she willed it not to break. She couldn’t be weak, especially not here.</p><p> </p><p>“I'm...I’m so sorry to hear what happened to you.”</p><p> </p><p>The response felt lame, falling so far short of what was deserved. But there was no more to be said about it. Nothing anyone could really do to rectify what has been taken from him. He cleared his throat and pushed himself to his feet. </p><p> </p><p>“My daughter is the one who needs your pity,” he said dismissively, with none of the emotion of earlier on his face. It was shocking, the night-and-day difference between this man and the man of thirty seconds ago. He was clearly repressing his true feelings. Nim almost felt guilty for prying, even if she was specifically told to. “I'm just a poor Forsworn whose only regret is not killing more Nords before I was locked up."</p><p> </p><p>Nim stood as well, body and heart aching. His cause was a violent one, but it was one she understood. There are so many people in Skyrim like him, who turned to revenge to fill the void of a loved one gone before their time. She had met so many, and none of them ever seemed satisfied by the blood until it was their own. She watched as he grabbed his pickaxe to go back to his work. “Go back to Madanach, new blood. He won’t be done with you yet.”</p><p> </p><p>She stood for just a moment longer as he turned his back to her, and swung the pickaxe against the wall with resounding force and dangerous speed. As she walked away, she knew she wasn't imagining the sound of a deep but hushed sob behind her as she nearly fled the tunnel. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>oh my GOD everyone say thank you to my beta reader Twippit for making this chapter 1000% better than it was when i first finished it. Seriously i would die for them. Anyways i hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Little Killer, Mighty Warrior</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>She glared up at Borkul. “I’m back to see Madanach. Let me through.”</p>
<p>He looked down at her with that smug grin across his face. She wanted to wipe it off with her fist so badly. “Or what, little killer?” </p>
<p>She glared up at him. Or what? What the hell was that supposed to mean, ‘or what’? Why couldn’t he just let her through so she could get this over with? “Or what? Or you can deal with your damned boss. Madanach told me to come back, let me through!”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She would need to calm herself before she spoke to Madanach. As she walked through the tunnel, Uraccen was waiting for her at the end. He caught her off guard, and she had to take a moment to steel her nerves. She couldn't look weak, especially not here. Not ever if she could help it. No matter how kind the elder man has been to her, she couldn't trust him enough to let her guard down. He didn't say anything as she quietly gathered herself, only walked beside her to the fire as she exited the tunnel. She was thankful for his silence, even though he surely knew of what she learned. It would be a long time before this story settled, she was only glad she could pull herself together and appear unbothered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She felt stupid, being so broken up over another man’s tale. It’s not like she knew his daughter, she hardly even knew Braig. But even so, his words rang through her head over and over. The tone of his voice, the watery broken words as he spoke of his daughter. Such injustice, such betrayal. She almost felt guilty being so sad. How dare she feel this way when Braig must feel about a thousand times worse every single day? It was a terrible thing, and she wondered what mad connection Madanach would make. What could </span>
  <em>
    <span>possibly </span>
  </em>
  <span>be the reason for bringing up that poor man’s terrible memories? She imagined he had his reasons, if misguided… but </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She and Uraccen sat in silence for a while, Nim hardly noticed she was sitting closer to Uraccen than she had earlier in the day. As they sat together, she wondered why she felt so at ease around him, when he was just another one of the wild forsworn that had been locked away for murder. He had taken her under his wing so quickly, it had been a long time since somebody offered her help free of charge, without complaint or antagonizing her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Together they stared into the fire, she wasn't sure how long it was before she spoke. “What was your daughter's name, Uraccen?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She watched as his face warped into a sad smile. “Her name was Uaile…” It hurt to hear the nostalgia in his voice. The regret. “Braig told you what happened to his girl then.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't a question, and she didn't offer an answer. Instead she spoke in a soft tone, “I hope you'll see your girl again one day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Honestly? I hope I don't.” He sighed. “I hope she ran away from Skyrim and never came back. She always spoke about travelling, leaving this hellhole for any other place on Nirn. It was me who held her back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nim didn't know what to say to that. She understood the appeal, and she had done her fair share of travelling in her younger years. Sometimes she wondered why she even came back to Skyrim. She supposed the dragonblood running through her veins was to thank for that. She just never felt like anywhere else was quite right.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She placed her hand on Uraccens arm softly and he startled. “I hope she’s happy too. And soon, you will be too. It's time I go speak to Madanach again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at her softly before smiling a mischievous smile. He looked younger when he was happy. “Alright, new blood. Be well.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled back and stood up, walking back up to Madanach's cell only to find that it was once again locked, and she would need to speak to the beast. Again. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Wonderful. He better not make me get him any more junk.’ </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For all this trouble, she hoped Madanach really had a plan. Her hunch was that he did, as she couldn't imagine he'd done nothing in all the years he'd been down here. He had Markarth in his pocket, surely there's a reason he’d done that. There's no point in having so much power if you aren't going to use it. If he didn't have a plan, she would have no problem putting one together. The man was something of a mastermind if the rumours were correct, so with his help they could escape in no time. She just hoped he would accept her help, or at least let her in on his plans. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She glared up at Borkul. “I’m back to see Madanach. Let me through.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looked down at her with that smug grin across his face. She wanted to wipe it off with her fist so badly. “Or what, little killer?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She glared up at him. Or what? What the hell was that supposed to mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘or what’</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Why couldn’t he just let her through so she could get this over with? “Or what? Or you can deal with your damned boss. Madanach told me to come back, let me through!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed in her face, deep and befitting of such a man. Nimnel desperately tried to recall anything the greybeards ever said about restraint so that she didn't attack him with her bare hands. “Aww, is the little elf going to get angry with me? Go on, use your words, </span>
  <em>
    <span>new blood.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With those words, any thoughts of restraint were evaporated. Even she was surprised at the speed at which her fist flew into his cheek. He had leaned down during his condescending words, and put himself in perfect range for her fist to make contact with the soft part of his cheek. He clearly hadn't been expecting her to fight back, and his head flew to the side with a crack. It was completely silent, and he slowly turned his head back and her hand fell back to her  side.She might have regretted it if not for what he did next. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He started laughing. Not a sarcastic laugh, or a fake one. He started full on belly laughing above her, as she stood there feeling rather embarrassed. Had her hit been that weak? She had won many brawls in the past and while she did tend to focus more on dodging than pure force, she certainly didn't think herself weak. She hoped his laughing wasn't the prelude to him attacking her, killing the bodyguard would make gaining Madanach's trust a little harder. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Once he had finally calmed down, he turned and began to unlock the gate. “You throw a mighty punch, little elf! It's been so long since I tasted my own blood.” He wasn't even angry she realized, in fact he seemed rather pleased with the force behind her punch. “Sour."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead </span>
  <em>
    <span>mighty warrior</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’ve earned your passage.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Condescending bastard,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she thought as she strode past him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Borkul was proud of his title. ‘The Beast’ says a lot about a man, and so far it's been accurate of himself and his position in life. He had stolen, beaten, killed, tortured. His actions could be described as ‘beastly’. They had landed him here, caged like any other violent beast the Nords hoped to control. Landed him here, watching a little elf run back and forth across the prison like a trapped animal, doing anything for a way out. She had only been here a day, and her restlessness amused him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A lot about this woman amused him. The way she held her chin up like she was above them, despite the fact that physically she was shorter than every man here. The way she seemed to be moving with determination wherever she went, to mine or to speak with Braig. Even on her way up to him she walked with her chin up, determination in her step. Teasing her has been fun, it had been a while since he had spoken to someone so easily riled up. Most of the men here either didn't take the bait or were too afraid to do anything but cower from him. But her, the little elf that had been all but tossed down the stairs just hours ago? She was a perfect target, so easily bothered yet so willing to come back for more. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The punch had been possibly the most amusing thing to happen since he got into this prison. Sure he had his fun bothering new prisoners, killing a few as well. But none of them had been so bold like her. Had any other prisoner punched him across the face like that, he wouldn't have hesitated to kill them, but there was something about her that kept him from doing just that. Perhaps it was the fact that Madanach wasn't done with her, perhaps it was that he didn't want to lose his only source of entertainment since he got down here. Either way, instead of killing her or ripping off the offending arm, he laughed harder than he had in a while. The punch had hurt, she had power in those short arms of hers. That made it all the better, to know she wasn't a weakling. They could use more like her in the cause, but decisions like that were up to Madanach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After she so boldly punched him in the face, he allowed her in to see the man. He couldn't hear what they spoke about so deep into the tunnel, but it was hardly his business anyways. Anything he needed to know, Madanach would tell him. He noticed Uraccen was giving him a look from the fire, and he wasn't sure what that meant. But he didn't like it, so he snarled, </span>
  <em>
    <span>like a beast,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and the old man turned away. He pretended he didn't see the smirk on the man's lips, they couldn't afford any members to be injured right now. Not when they were so close. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was a while before she came bustling back out, looking rather annoyed. Madanach had always enjoyed inconveniencing new members as much as possible, it was a test of their loyalty in a way. He had made Borkul jump through all sorts of hoops when he first joined, and it was at the expense of many fist-shaped dents in the trees around their old camp. As she passed, he spoke up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Get what you wanted, Little Killer?" The condescension in his voice was heavy, and her little fists clenched. He smirked. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't suppose you want to give me that shiv back, do you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He merely raised an eyebrow, looking impossibly more smug. She huffed. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Great."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finally getting a bit more interaction between nim and borkul? hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Grisvar may be unlucky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Although she was feeling a little offended that he doubted her abilities, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She accepted the crude knife with a grin and a nod, and he released her. He walked back to the main room without another word, and Nim steeled herself once more. Suddenly the task didn't seem so daunting.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The meeting with Madanach had been infuriating, to say the least. Nim had met many smart people in her life, and her experience with each of them had annoying at the least, but these tasks were starting to get annoying. Surely there were more important things to be done than learning a backstory or killing a man who, as far as she knew, was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. It felt like a trial, some sort of test to see if she would be loyal to him. Like loyalty really mattered when they were all trying to escape the same prison. She stormed out of Madanach’s tunnel once more and was once again bothered by the brute guarding his door. Sure, she spoke first but he’s the one who's been harassing her from the beginning. As she left, she looked around for Uraccen, she realized he was no longer by the fire. She thought about tracking him down to see if he would help her find a new shiv, but after the conversation they had, she felt a little greedy asking a favour of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a long time since she killed a man with her bare hands. Usually, she had her weapons, or the victim’s weapons, or literally anything but her own two hands to do it. But upon looking around the mine, it would seem she had no choice. She certainly wasn't going to go back to Madanach just to ask for a weapon. It took a while to steel herself for this. It would not be the first time she killed, not even really the first time she killed someone who didn't deserve it. But in the past, they had been collateral damage, in the way of what she needed. If she framed it right in her mind, Grivar could be the same. Just collateral damage in the bigger picture. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The tunnel down to where Grisvar waited, unaware of his fate, was cold. The whole mine was cold, but the dread of what was to come settled in her bones. She wasn't sure why it felt so wrong to kill him, she hasn't had any issue with murdering others since she was a teen. And yet with every step-down, she wanted to turn back and flee. She thought hard about what could be causing this dread, why it felt different, and it came down to two answers. The first being that she had never killed someone who was defenseless. Stealth had never been her style really, but it was her only option this time. The second was that she had never really been ordered to kill someone. Bandits and mercenary contracts sure, but this was different. This was being ordered to kill someone she knew, this was a planned murder. She hoped she would get it over with quickly. As she was about to round the corner into the larger room, Uraccen rounded out and quickly pushed her backwards away from the entrance. Before she could even say a word, he pulled out a shiv and her blood ran cold. For just a moment, she cursed herself for letting him get so close. For letting her guard down around him. But instead of plunging it into her heart or slitting her throat, he grabbed one of her hands and closed it around the handle. He spoke in a low voice, looking straight into her eyes as he gave her instructions. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Grisvar may be unlucky, but he is strong and he knows how to kill just as well as any of us. He’s faster than he looks, so if you're going to kill him you need to do it quietly.” She tried to answer him but he kept on, sounding more serious than he had ever before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s tall, but if you can get there you can slit his throat from behind. If he attacks you, go for the face.” He hesitated, seemingly thinking of what more he could tell her before his face broke into a small smirk. “But something tells me you can handle it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although she was feeling a little offended that he doubted her abilities, she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She accepted the crude knife with a grin and a nod, and he released her. He walked back to the main room without another word, and Nim steeled herself once more. Suddenly the task didn't seem so daunting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She entered the cavern silently. The one good thing about the footwraps she was forced to wear is that her feet make no sound on the dirt and stone of the floor. The man stood at the wall, swinging his pickaxe over and over. Even if she had her shoes she wasn't sure he would have heard her, really. Uraccen was right about his height, he had a good foot and a half on her. She would be able to reach his throat but she would only have one chance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She crept behind him silently, so close that she could hear his heavy breathing and see the sweat of exertion rolling down his back. She waited until he had the axe above his head, his neck vulnerable and open, and she made her strike.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shiv was sharper than she expected. It slit through his throat with no resistance, his thin and wrinkled skin splitting like paper. The axe dropped, and almost landed on Nim’s head as the man spun around clutching his neck. It poured blood quickly, flowing and bubbling through his fingers and out his mouth as he tried to speak or scream. She could only watch as he tried to stumble in her direction before collapsing to his knees, and then to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blood pooled around his lifeless body. She stepped back so it wouldn't touch her bare feet. She hoped she would be able to get his blood off her hands when they finally got out of here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared at the body a moment longer, before turning back to the tunnel. She didn't think about how his body would likely rot down here. She wouldn't be here to see it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she exited the tunnel to the main room, Uraccen was leaning against the wall beside the entrance. They made eye contact, and she wondered for a brief moment if he was doubting that she actually did it. People never expect the sweet little wood elf to be capable of the things she has done. Instead of questioning her, he glanced at her dirtied hands and back up to her face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, we can get you cleaned up before you go see the king.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pushed off the wall and gestured for her to follow, and she did without a word. He was clearly aware of what she had done, he had enabled her to do so, yet she almost expected judgement. The man was a murderer himself, her worries were completely unfounded, but for some reason, she felt herself seeking his approval. Hoping he still liked her, as if it mattered in her situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scrounged up a small wooden bowl full of their drinking water, and a rag, and sat her down on the stairs. “Oh, here. Your shiv...you might wanna clean it before you put it away.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tried to hand it back, but he just placed it on the step beside her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keep it, you might need it again. Just don’t let Borkul take it next time,” he joked, and she laughed a little. For how much she had been dreading the situation, she didn’t feel much different now that she had gone through with it. The older man lifted the rag and took one of her hands, and she tried to argue that she could do it herself but he waved her off.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, let me. I could benefit from helping someone out instead of doing the actual killing for once.” He said, and she reluctantly acquiesced. She pouted a little, as he gently cleaned her hands and he laughed. “You look like my daughter when I helped her as well. Always needing to be so independent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled at his reminiscing and wondered how long it had been since he had gotten to talk about his daughter so kindly. Once her hands were free of blood, she untied her hair to fix it again and pulled half of it up out of her face. Uraccen dumped the bowl of bloody water and sat beside her. “Do you think Madanach will make me do anything else like that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The man seemed to think about it for a minute before leaning back with a friendly grin. “Well I hope not, or I might be next.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite it being a joke, she was internally scared of the thought. She wasn't sure if she could do that, Uraccen had been so kind to her. It felt like they had known each other for so much longer than what she assumed was a day. Maybe it had been longer, she couldn't exactly tell down here. Before she could stew in those thoughts too long he nudged her with an elbow. “Don’t worry about it kid, I think it'll be alright. Madanach is smart. Whatever he has planned for you, I know you can handle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nim sighed and stood up heavily. “I know I can handle it, I just don't want to become his little errand girl. I’ll see you later.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Time to give Madanach the good news. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Voice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He was practically gaping at what she had done. “You… You studied the voice?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Oh. He didn’t know. She supposed he wouldn't have heard all the Dragonborn rumours being stuck underground so long. They had spoken about the dragons earlier, so Madanach's contacts had informed them of that development, but the mysterious Dragonborn rumours must not have made the cut as important information. Anyone else who saw her use the voice now would know she was the Dragonborn instantly, making the connection between the rumours and her knowledge of the voice. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Um, yeah. Did the whole thing with the greybeards and everything. We gotta go now, we don't have time to discuss this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She began rushing towards the exit, they would need to catch up now. She could already feel the pain setting back in, the minor numbing from the shout wearing off. At this rate, she would be limping out of here. He followed and she could hear him mumbling in confusion. “But...you’re so young..” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>She ignored that statement, there was no explanation she could possibly give him at this moment.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Grisvar is dead.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Madanach seemed unaffected by the news. Not excited or surprised or anything, all she really got as a reaction was a short acknowledgement of the task before launching into his newest speech. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve finally become one of us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nim wasn’t sure how she felt about that comment. One of the forsworn. She never quite understood their cause or cared enough to look into it when they were attacking her on the roads, so it felt a little odd to be considered one of them. He didn’t notice her slight discomfort either way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come with me, I think it’s time I announced our plans to your brothers.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was a little annoying to hear after all those stupid errands. Nim spoke rapidly, she always did when she was annoyed. On the verge of pissed off in fact. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our plan, what do you mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>our </span>
  </em>
  <span>plan? I’ve been trying to talk to you about a plan for hours and you’ve given me nothing! What plan could </span>
  <em>
    <span>we </span>
  </em>
  <span>have possibly agreed on?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Madanach laughed at her little fit, and it made her even angrier if not slightly embarrassed. What was with the men in this prison laughing at her anger! He stood up with popping bones and she was even more annoyed to learn he was also taller than her. Figured.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen New Blood, I have had my plan in the works for years. You have had the smallest glance at the very tip of this iceberg. You’re right, you know nothing of <em>my</em> plan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned in and Nim realized she was getting a taste of why they all seemed to respect him so much. Madanach was a scary man, and the look on his face damn near terrifying. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have been of use to me today, and have proven yourself to be ambitious, so I will let you escape this pit on </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>plan. But by all nine divines, you will learn to hold your tongue, or you will wish you stayed in this gods damned prison for the rest of your pitiful life.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nim had never been much for authority, and she was even less for men looming over her with threats, but she also knew how to pick her battles. She usually chose all of them if she was being honest, but this was not the time nor the place to pick a fight. This man is powerful in a way she couldn't fully judge right now, and Nim was outnumbered. So she did just as he said, and held her tongue, but not without glaring daggers back at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They held tense eye contact for a moment later before Madanach broke away with a grin. “Now then. Let’s go tell them about </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>plan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they emerged into the main cavern, everyone was already gathered by the fire. They seemed to be discussing something serious but were spurred into silence at the sight of their king. The silence was quickly broken as Uraccen spoke up.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell is going on Madanach, you wouldn’t have Grisvar killed unless you didn’t need him anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were murmured agreements from the others, though not from Borkul it seemed. The large man just stood beside the others in silence. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uraccen my brother, you always were a sharp one! You’re right, we won’t be needing mister unlucky any longer, and I have someone far more useful to take his place! Now, more importantly, we have much to discuss.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As he continued, Nim realized she should probably be standing alongside the others by the fire, and quickly took place beside Uraccen. Madanach was certainly a leader, and he spoke like one, with confidence and bravado to inspire his masses. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My Brothers, we have been here long enough. It’s time we leave Cidhna Mine and continue our fight against the Nords!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He gestured behind him with sweeping arms and an unnaturally excited grin. “Through this gate, just beside my quarters, is a tunnel. A tunnel that leads right through the old dwarven ruins of Markarth into the city!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Into the city. The city full of people and guards. This was going to be quite the bloodbath if they all made it out but Madnach seemed unbothered by the prospect. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would say we have all earned an early pardon after the gods forsaken bullshit we have dealt with down here, right brothers?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The resounding ‘Yeah!’ was loud, and Nim was almost worried about a guard hearing them. She supposed neglectful guards did make for a fairly easy escape when you have the option. The men were cheering and roused, even Borkul seemed enthusiastic about the upcoming escape. She was glad she had not spent as much time down there as they had, she’s not sure she would have maintained their motivation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nim very much did not appreciate being so out of the loop. She wanted to know Madanach's plan before they started, not get thrown into the thick of it at his will. She had so many questions, as the group began running for the tunnel. How did he dig this without anyone finding out? Did he dig all the way to Markarth on his own? Did anyone help him? Did he pay off the guards to look away from it? She was completely out of the loop and it was awful. As she came to the entrance, she saw Uraccen waiting for her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Come on, let's get out of here!” He exclaimed. He looked ecstatic about his escape, and she could imagine why. She smiled back and they began sprinting to catch up with the rest of the group. The door they came up to at least clued her in on the hows of Madanach's plan, it was clearly dwarven. She should have known, considering this entire hold was a dwarven relic. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Whatever magic the Dwarves used to light the lamps, set periodically through the tunnel, must have been extremely powerful. They cast the whole tunnel in an eerie turquoise glow, as they sprinted across the cold stone floors. The thin foot wraps she wore did practically nothing, and she was already planning in her head how she could attempt to sneak into Markarth later to get her stuff back. They kept running, and she couldn't help but notice how they all ran not just with urgency, but with excitemenT. They were grinning at each other and occasionally knocking shoulders, clearly, the men were excited to see freedom on the horizon and to reach it with their forsworn family. Uraccen kept throwing a bright smile over his shoulder as he made sure she was keeping up, and she smiled back just as big. It was nice to be included in their relieved excitement and comradery, even if it was just for now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they got further ahead, she took note of the disgustingly familiar webbing that began to line the corridor. They all knew what was coming up, she just hoped they would all be able to handle them without proper weapons. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There ended up being 3 spiders in the first room, two decent-sized ones and a massive one to top it all off. She used the shiv to attack the writhing legs of the smaller ones as Madanach focused columns of fire towards its face. The other smaller one was at the mercy of Braig and Uraccen’s pickaxes. As she sliced one of its back legs at the knee, she looked over and realized that Borkul and Duach were taking on the largest one on their own. Between her and Madanach, the smaller one had next to no mobility in mere minutes, so she moved on to assist with the giant arachnid they fought. It was at that moment she realized that without a proper weapon, her only option would be to use the Voice.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She certainly hadn't planned on revealing her Dragonborn status to these people, or to anyone she didn't know particularly well. Her plan for this whole thing was to have the Dragonborn remain a nameless faceless legend, a story to tell around the table or to excite children. It would be easier that way, and she could hopefully go back to some sort of regular life when all was said and done.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately, the voice was looking like the only option to fight such a large foe. As she gathered her breath, she was taken by surprise before the beginnings of Dovatongue could leave her mouth. Borkul had launched himself to be standing on the massive arachnids back. The magic died on her tongue as he reared back his massive arms, and brought his pickaxe down in between the spider's eyes. It collapsed instantly, but the man held his balance. It wasn't often she found herself speechless, but she could certainly appreciate a man of his...stature, making such a brave and skillful move in battle. She only realized she was gaping at him as he pulled the gut-covered pickaxe from the body, and winked at her. She huffed and moved forward with the group.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As they continued running, Uraccen fell back to be running beside her now that the halls were not so thin. Borkul was up at the front with Madanach once more, and Uraccen seemed to take her silence as an opportunity for some completely wrong and not at all true jabs at her flustered disposition.  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem a little flushed Nim, are you alright?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't seem to regret the comment, even after receiving a sharp elbow to the rib cage. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes well, we were just in a fight. And we have been running this whole time. I’m just feeling warm”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His answering chuckle would have earned him another elbow if he hadn't dodged it. They kept running through the cavern and Nim was starting to get nervous. Dwemer ruins usually came with very formidable defences, and her group was without defences. Group advantage or not they would be difficult to defeat in their current state.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her worries turned out to be warranted as they reached a large platform in the next room. Dwemer technology remained unmatched in many ways, and despite the impending danger she couldn't help but admire their handiwork. If it didn’t immediately signal danger, she would be impressed by the Dwarven Spheres as they rolled out their pods. They were beautiful and dangerous, and if the Dwarves were still around she would commend their creator.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room exploded with the sound of magic and steel hitting metal. The spheres lived up to her worries, and Nim was grateful for the speed and agility she gained over the years. The sharp blade of metallic arm missed her by a hair's width as it aimed for her torso, and she didn’t have the time to consider what might have happened had she been just a second too slow. She quickly realizes her shiv would be useless in this situation, and once again is forced to consider using the voice in front of these near strangers. Her only real option right now would be Unrelenting Force, and she wasn’t sure that would be safe for the others at the moment. It was at least a six-foot drop of the platform and one of the men was far too close. Those damned greybeards had sent her all across the depths of Skyrim and she still hardly knew enough Dovahtongue to do anything helpful. Instead, she realized she would have to get it to fall over the edge into the pit beneath their platform. She took into account who was fighting the sphere with her and realized she had Uraccen and Duach by her side for the moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When I give the word, both of you need to kick it over the edge!” She shouted over the clanging metal and didn’t bother to wait for their affirmative. With the machine distracted by the two men and she was able to slip behind it and from behind, she wedged her flimsy shiv into its head. It spun around faster than she expected and she barely avoided its swinging arm. Before she could take a breath, it was rolling for her at top speed. Just as it reared back its blade for a fatel blow, she gave the signal.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Push it now!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They each planted a foot on the sphere and she ducked under the blade to roll out of the way. Though her strategy worked as planned, the sphere was faster than she accounted for and its blade sliced into her lower leg with the blade as it fell. She felt the peculiar feeling of metal splitting skin, in a long deep cut from mid-calf down to the ankle. She cried out in pain, but it was drowned out by the sound of sleek metal sliding down the stone wall. The machine fell to its death perfectly, breaking apart as it hit the bottom.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Her perfectly practiced roll ended up more of a tumble as the sudden pain made her lose her coordination. She sprawled across the stone with a grunt, and looked up just in time to see the other spheres demise. Frozen by Madanach’s magic, it was brutally broken by another impressive swing of Borkuls axe. The powerful ice magic had turned the thin plates in the machine's head brittle, and it shattered and dented from the force. It crumpled to the ground in front of her, pieces rolling and clattering away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nim, are you alright?” Uraccen skidded her way, and she started pulling herself up. She took one look at her leg before brushing him off. “I’m fine, we have to keep moving.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As she looked up, she realized they were all staring at her. Most of them had small injuries from the fight, and there was no way she would continue to be the center of attention. She couldn’t look weak, not in the presence of strangers and certainly not in the presence of men known to kill in cold blood. She quickly got to her feet, very pointedly not putting weight on her leg just yet. Madanach spoke up first.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you going to be able to keep up?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His tone was clear. They would leave her behind if she couldn’t.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I said I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, let's move.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stared for one moment longer, before moving on. “You heard the girl, let’s go!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They all followed him besides Uraccen and to her surprise, Borkul. She glared at him, daring him to make a comment before she felt Uraccen touch her arm. The second she broke eye contact she heard the beast follow his leader. “I’m fine.” She repeated. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Uraccen nodded. “So I hear. Do you at least know any restoration magic, so you can get out of here without leaving a trail of blood for the guards to follow?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn't realized she was bleeding so much till she looked down. The cloth around her foot was soaked. “Fuck me. Ok.” She mumbled under her breath, before speaking up.  “I gotta do this quickly so you better keep your mouth shut about it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“About what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nim ignored him and propped her injured leg up against one of the large pipes attached to the platform. She quickly whispered some of the most powerful words she knew in Dovah;</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Kun, Askk</span>
  </em>
  <span>”. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The magic travelled in her breath and hit her leg in a cold breeze. She didn't have the energy right now to preform the full shout and add </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘laas’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>to the end, or use the words with her full power, without exhausting herself. The shout was exhausting and consuming even for a dragon, and when she was weak or injured using it at full power could knock her out completely. She had already lost a bit of blood, so the healing would only be enough to stop the bleeding for now. Luckily that was all she needed. The healing shout was one of the few that Paarthurnax taught her himself, and he had warned her that it would be difficult. The greybeards had been unwilling to teach it to her until she trained further, but her impatience made her bypass them and go straight for the elderly dragon. She had only then learned that they would be unable to use it themselves without going unconscious, their bodies were too frail. It was only with the strength of her dragon blood that she was capable. It had taken much training to be able to whisper the shouts as well, it turns out having dragon blood might have made the power come easy but gaining control was just as hard as it would be for a young dragon. Or at least that’s how Paarthurnax explained it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With the bleeding over, she took her leg down and looked to Uraccen. He was practically gaping at what she had done. “You… You studied the voice?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh. He didn’t know. She supposed he wouldn't have heard all the Dragonborn rumours being stuck underground so long. They had spoken about the dragons earlier, so Madanach's contacts had informed them of that development, but the mysterious Dragonborn rumours must not have made the cut as important information. Anyone else who saw her use the voice now would know she was the Dragonborn instantly, making the connection between the rumours and her knowledge of the voice. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, yeah. Did the whole thing with the greybeards and everything. We gotta go now, we don't have time to discuss this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She began rushing towards the exit, they would need to catch up now. She could already feel the pain setting back in, the minor numbing from the shout wearing off. At this rate, she would be limping out of here. He followed and she could hear him mumbling in confusion. “But...you’re so young..” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She ignored that statement, there was no explanation she could possibly give him at this moment. As they came through the door she saw everyone was changing into different armour, and Madanach was talking to some woman at the large doors. He saw her come in and walked over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good, you caught up! I believe this is yours?” He gestured to her pack, along with her weapons and armour stacked in the corner. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You got my stuff! Thank the gods, I never want to come back to this city again.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Before she could grab her things he stopped her once more and placed a bundle of furs and leather in her arms. “Here, put this on. If you're going to escape with us, you're gonna need to look the part.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>At least he didn't say anything about being one of them, she wasn't sure how she could have let him down easy without ruining her chances of escape or getting stabbed. She took the armour with a nod and quickly began throwing it on over her prisoner’s garb. She certainly wasn't going to undress in front of all of them, and they didn't have time either way. The helmet was by far her least favourite part, the massive deer head was thick and she could already feel the points of her ears rubbing uncomfortably against it. She threw her pack over her shoulder and picked up her bow in hand. Luckily her quiver wasn't unreachable behind the helmet, though it would slow her down a bit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Madanach took place upon the platform in front of the door. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright brothers, this is the final stretch! Once we escape Markarth, we are free. When I open this door we make for the front gate together but as soon as we get out of the hold, split up. Lose the law and be </span>
  <em>
    <span>absolutely </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure nobody is following you. Meet back at Druadach Redoubt. Braig and Duatch run south. Nim, Borkul and Uraccen head west. Kaile and I have some business to the East, but we will meet you all at home in three days.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With the plan made and everyone ready, he opened the doors and all hell broke loose. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
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</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you to some guy on reddit for thinking of a healing shout, the words mean "Light, Love" and "Life". Sorry for the major delay and I hope you guys enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Imperial guards and stupid men</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He drew his steel sword, and when Borkul realized his plan, he dropped his cargo unceremoniously in the dirt. Nim could only sit and watch in awe with a bruised ass and a bleeding leg as they finished off the three sluggish guards. Fortunately the fight did not take too long, and soon the three remaining guards were dead on the ground. The men stood up properly and turned back to her, and she grinned. </p><p>“Well. What now?”</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fighting imperial guards is a little like fighting the same person over and over again. You realize over time that they all make the same moves, use the same weapons, yell the same insults. It makes sense, a large group of people with the same motives and ideals who were put through the same training, they would be similar. But sometimes it was a bit annoying. They were all stupidly persistent with their bows, almost unwilling to use a sword until they were practically nose to nose. Which is a fine, if losing strategy, she supposed, but when they let an arrow fly at two metres it hurt like a bitch.</p><p>Luckily it was not Nim who took the arrow this time, but Duatch as he moved to push the archer backwards off one of the many precarious ledges in Markarth. She watched as the arrow lodged itself deep in the muscle of his left arm and winced. That's gotta hurt. . On his part, he hardly seemed to flinch as he pushed the guard with his right arm. He flew backwards off the edge with a cry, before being cut off with the splash of water and then silence.</p><p>Ducking under the swinging greatsword of a rather brutish guard, she came back up faster than he could recover and plunged the sharp, twisted blade of Nettlebane into his neck. He fell with a wet gurgle, and she turned to see Duatch tackle his next enemy one-handed, the other limp at his side. If she didn’t have a guard rushing her once more she might have tried to get to him with one of the few health potions in her pack.</p><p>Instead, she turned her attention to her next opponent, a rather tall imperial woman this time. She was running with her sword positioned above her head, and as Nim began running to meet her she could only think about how the woman's sword was not nearly large or heavy enough for whatever she was attempting. Not that she hadn’t seen them try it before; clearly their training needed to be updated. Just as the imperial woman swung downwards, Nim slid to her right. With the guard’s balance completely thrown from her overpowered swing, Nim was able to rip her leg out from beneath her and take her to the ground. Nim had always been fast, and within seconds she was straddling the woman’s back and plunging her dagger into the top of her spine. With a huff, she sat up atop the woman's back to assess her surroundings. A sharp wolf whistle drew her attention to the right with a gasp of disbelief. She turned to see Borkul, with a guard in a headlock. He laughed out loud at her offended expression, and in the same second snapped the man’s neck.</p><p>Very pointedly not thinking about the strength behind those bulging arms, she spit at the ground in his direction with a snarl and moved onto her next victim. It continued like this all the way down the gate, their group taking on guards and the occasional bold civilians as they tried to escape the city. The architecture had its downfalls for guards and prisoners alike, and Nim spent half the fight cursing “fucking Markarth” repeatedly. They were nearly there now, in the main square just by the gates. The guards were taking advantage of the open space to corral their group into one place and surround them with as many guards as they could. It worked to their detriment, as Madanach's fire took out half their number in one fell swoop. With a laugh at the stupidity of the city guard, Nim continued picking off those who broke their formation one by one until there was a sizable gap. In a split-second decision, she broke off the group and scaled one of the stands. From her new vantage point, she was able to see just what the guards were planning. They had archers running above the gate, getting ready to pick off their group while they were all in one place. She took her chance to do the same to them before they got the chance. Bow in hand, she shot them as soon as they reached her position. She was quicker on the draw than they were, and had better aim by far. She paid the group below no attention as she kept the archers at bay, she would run when she saw the gate moving. Because of this plan, she never saw a guard break off the weakening circle to sneak towards her stand as she focused on her targets. She didn’t notice him until he was already on the ground. She heard a tortured scream below her and looked down to see that Borkul had broken off and forced through the even sparser circle of guards to take her near attacker to the ground. He was dead in seconds, Borkuls heavy boot on his arm and his heavy mace embedded in his skull.</p><p>Her mouth felt dry, and before she could speak she heard Madanach's authoritative yell: “Now, everyone for the gate!” They had the gate open now, so no time to address just how attractive Borkul looked while literally saving her life. It was a small jump that wouldn’t usually have any effect, but her earlier quick fix was starting to wear off. She landed wrong and hit the stone with a cry of pain, nearly crumpling to the ground. To her surprise, she felt a massive hand grip her bicep and drag her towards the gate. She stumbled, mouth agape, as Borkul ran without letting go, and she let him guide her with his firm grip as she tried to focus on not stumbling or having her head cut off by the remaining guards.</p><p>As soon as they got out the gates it became a game of dodging the flying arrows from the remaining archers. Borkuls grip remained strong and under other circumstances, she might complain about the fingerprint-shaped bruises she was sure to have tomorrow, but there was no time to consider it. The guards chasing them had no chance of hitting them unless they caught up, but the remaining guards up on the wall were raining arrows from above. Their aim wasn’t terrible, but her group was scattering and moving and dodging and the more distance they gained the easier it got to dodge until they split up altogether. They split off in their agreed-upon groups as soon as they hit the road beyond the stables. Uraccen, Nim and Borkul were heading vaguely northwest until they lost their followers, which meant heading directly into the forest and the base of the mountains that surround Markarth.</p><p>Her wound was getting worse. It was sluggishly bleeding again and throbbing from the exertion as they weaved through trees and rocks. She could see Uraccen throwing concerned looks toward her injury, but Borkul seemed unphased as he continued to drag her through the underbrush. Being pulled along was getting tiring but without it she would surely fall behind, especially with her now staggering mobility.</p><p>The group continued sprinting through the underbrush as the four remaining guards chased on. At one point Uraccen stopped abruptly and spun on his heel, and with the flick of his hand landed an iron dagger between the eyes of one of their followers. Nim's expression darkened. She was losing control of her injured leg. At this rate they were going to have to leave her behind to lose the attackers. She could probably kill them on her own using the Voice, but it would also probably render herself unconscious immediately, or worse. Either way, it was her only plan.</p><p>She tried to shake off Borkul’s iron grip, but he ignored her and kept dragging forward.</p><p>“Let me go!” she cried, beating her free fist against his thick, corded wrist.</p><p>He ignored her and she tried again.</p><p>“Borkul, let me go," she pleaded, "I’m slowing you down.”</p><p>Uraccen was quick to deny that Nim was any sort of burden. Nim and Borkul both ignored him with a grunt, Nim's petulant and Borkul's dismissive. She kept trying to shake off his grip until finally, he let go… But his hand was only off her for a second before he whipped her smaller body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She squealed rather girlishly to her own annoyance, and Borkul laughed breathlessly.</p><p>“You’re right," he panted, "you were slowing us down.”</p><p>Nim put up a token struggle, kicking feebly at his barrel chest. Still, she recognized with a petulant frown that it was clear that they were gaining more distance with her off the ground. Instead, she propped herself up on his (very… very muscled) back and wrestled her bow off her shoulder. It would be a difficult shot, but if she could do it from the back of a horse this couldn’t be too different. She had practically no leverage with both hands on the bow, so she would have to be quick. Her core was strong, but she was only able to hit one guard in the chest before she collapsed back down onto the orc's back. Stupid core muscles.</p><p>Either way, it helped. Uraccen ducked behind a tree and threw another dagger from his own pack, hitting with devastating accuracy once again. There were only three guards left now. It was Uraccen who stepped forward first to take on the guards hand to hand. He drew his steel sword, and when Borkul realized his plan, he dropped his cargo unceremoniously in the dirt. Nim could only sit and watch in awe with a bruised ass and a bleeding leg as they finished off the three sluggish guards. Fortunately, the fight did not take too long, and soon the three remaining guards were dead on the ground. The men stood up properly and turned back to her, and she grinned.</p><p>“Well. What now?”</p><p>Uraccen answered first. “Now, we figure out where we are and get home. I don’t think anyone else will follow us as long as we lose the trail of bodies.”</p><p>Borkul just grunted and started rifling through the dead guard’s possessions. While he did that, Nim reached for her pack and desperately hoped her health potions didn’t break while she was being manhandled by the brute. Luckily one of them hadn’t (though her frostbite venom was a lost cause…), and she chugged it quickly. The magic was strong, but it would really only stop the bleeding, it wouldn’t mend the wound. She would have to bind it properly and try not to limp too slowly on their way home. She pulled some strips of cloth from a separate part of her bag that didn’t look too offensively dirty (seriously, she thought, I need to clean this thing out) and tried to angle herself correctly to check on the wound. Before she could get a good look, Uraccen dropped to the ground in front of her and took her by the ankle.</p><p>“Hey, I-”</p><p>“I can do it faster. We have to get moving.”</p><p>He wrapped it quickly and efficiently, and she winced at the feeling of cloth touching the raw edges of the wound. The bleeding should be properly over by the time it had to be changed, but that didn’t help the current pain that coursed through it when she put weight on her leg.</p><p>“How far is Drudach?”</p><p>Uraccen looked at her sympathetically, and she tried not to let her anger get the best of her. She didn’t need any sort of pity, especially not from an old man. Instead, she bit her tongue.</p><p>“I would say four hours if we can get back on the road without looking too suspicious, longer if we have to go through the forest. And that’s optimistic. We might be moving slower with this.” He gestured to her leg and she pulled it from his grasp. By now, Borkul was walking back to the group.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it, I can move just fine,” she huffed.</p><p>“It wasn’t looking that way back in the city, Little Elf.” Borkul jabbed, and she practically snarled.</p><p>“I am perfectly capable of keeping up, so you can mind your fucking business.”</p><p>He laughed in her face and she finally got fed up with his attitude. She scrambled to her feet and just as she was about to lunge for his stupid face, Uraccen grabbed her by the waist and dragged her back. “I swear to every fucking Daedra and divine if you don’t let me go-”</p><p>“We don’t have time! They are going to send more guards down this trail of bodies any minute and we cannot be here when they do. You can kill each other later.”</p><p>Borkul just grinned condescendingly, and Nim spit at his feet rudely. Uraccen let her go hesitantly, and when she didn’t visibly lunge again let her go fully.</p><p>“Now. If you two are done, we need to head….this way. If we’re lucky, we might meet the road later on when we’re further from the city and we can walk the rest of the way on the path. Let’s go.”</p><p>And so they began their trek, with Nim limping as subtly as she could, Uraccen navigating, and Borkul bringing up the rear. It was gonna be a long walk.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>NOBODY clown me on the summarys, i have no good ideas. and once again you all better appreciate my beta reader (@tardisinapokeball on tumblr) as much as i do bc this fic would suck ass without them i promise.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you all so much for reading, and the biggest thank you goes to my Beta reader @tardisinapokeball</p><p>hope you enjoy and find me at @skyrim-said-that on tumblr!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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